Rise from the Ashes
by keisan
Summary: AU. When a young American boy is dealt a harsh hand early in life, will he rise to meet his destiny or fail? Two worlds collide when Alfred unexpectedly meets a quiet, troubled violet-eyed boy who behaves like the wallflower status he's settled for. What happens when history repeats itself? Alfred x Matthew, with other pairings. Slash. WIP.
1. Chapter 1

Rise from the Ashes

By keisan

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. I just play with them and give them back only slightly tarnished.

Warning: Slightly graphic in terms of violence, character death(s) (no major Hetalia characters), AU, and slash later on. Story has not been beta-ed by anyone but myself, as I am writing it out as I go.

a/n: So this is what happens when one spends a bit too much time on Tumblr. Ideas abound! Fear not, I will be updating 'Long Way to Happy' soon! I'm a bit stuck there at the moment but hopefully this will help me dig myself out.

I'm an AmeCan shipper so if you've come here looking for USUK (anything more than a parental relationship), you'll be sadly disappointed. Also, human names will solely be used.

….

The smoke was thick and impenetrable, the heat was unbearable, and the noise was the worst, it was painful, filled with cries and sobs and shrieks of agony. This night wouldn't be forgotten by the families of this fire, a fire that roared and angrily consumed the homes and the inhabitants.

A young blue-eyed boy choked and coughed as he hunched over the bodies of his parents.

"Mom? Dad?" he choked out tearfully. "Please, please wake up." He pressed his ash-blackened hands against their bodies and curled his tiny fingers around their hands.

He coughed again and squinted as the flames licked up the remainder of the kitchen where his mother often made his favourite dinners, like hamburgers, and desserts, like chocolate chip muffins. A few more tears ran down his cheeks and he looked away from the flames crawling closer to him and the remains of his parents' bodies. He swallowed and debated if he should stay with them. Then they'd always be together. He lay on his mother's still chest, it was warm, but she'd stopped breathing a while ago.

The young boy's eyes slowly slid closed as the heat consumed the room and the air became scarcer and scarcer. Just then a crash sounded from the apartment door. The blond boy opened one eye slowly and made out the blurry figure entering the room. The seemingly large man wore black and yellow firefighter's gear and a mask. He held out a hand towards the boy, indicating he needed to go with him. The boy shook his head and curled into his dead mother's embrace and he slept.

Unbeknownst to the boy, the firefighter picked his slight body up and carried him out. He was brought to the ambulance and it was hours before he came to.

….

A pair of blue eyes slowly opened and the owner of those eyes let out a painful cough. Why does my throat hurt so bad? He wondered.

Almost immediately a glass of water was thrust into his hands. The boy took the glass and greedily gulped down the soothing coolness of the water. He glanced upward at whoever handed him the water and coughed as a stern looking woman gave him a firm look.

"Slowly. Don't choke," she told him in a thick European accent.

He nodded and drew the glass away from his mouth to sip more slowly. She nodded in approval and finally let a small smile escape. "Good. Now, what is your name? Do you know where you are from? Where you live? Where you go to school?"

"Alfred. Alfred F. Jones," the blond boy told her with a hint of pride.

She nodded and gave him a smile. "I'm Nurse Héderváry."

"I'm from New York City. I live on West 37th Street. I go to Lincoln Public School."

"Good. You didn't hit your head in the accident but we need to make sure the smoke didn't hurt you—that you remember everything."

"Remember… Mom? W-where's Mom? And Dad? I dreamt that something happened, that everything was too hot, we were burning in the fire, and we all went to heaven. Am I in heaven with them? Where are they?" Alfred's breath hitched and his eyes watered as he gazed up at the brunette woman.

Her green eyes shone with sympathy and pain. "Alfred… I'm so sorry sweetie."

Blue eyes widened and Alfred let out a wail. He felt agony bone-deep and that nothing would ever make it go away. He was ten years old, he was alone, and now, an orphan.

…

_Their screams were desperate. "Alfred! Get up baby! We have to go!"_

"_Mom! Dad! What's happening?!" he cried. _

"_The door's stuck!" called out a man's voice, 'Dad,' thought Alfred. _

"_Alfie, hold your breath," his mother rasped out. "You have to make it out, baby." _

"_Mom!" Alfred grasped at her body, her blonde strands streaked with ash and smoke. _

…

"MOM!" Alfred screamed out. He sniffled and let the tears fall again. What was he going to do? Where would he go now? He wondered.

"Here," and Alfred took the proffered glass of water.

Blue eyes peered upwards to see a shaggy-haired blond man with emerald green eyes and thick eyebrows.

Alfred squinted and stared at him warily, "Who are you?"

Green eyes narrowed before softening slightly, "My name's Arthur Kirkland." He spoke with an English accent.

"Well that doesn't really answer my question," Alfred commented feeling somewhat irritated with the stranger.

The stranger was fairing no better, "You need to learn some respect."

The boy glared, "Go away. I don't want you here."

"Fine!" Arthur retorted childishly and stood up abruptly. Then he remembered why he was here. He didn't like children but this boy needed someone. He'd just lost his family and he was alone. He sighed deeply and rubbed out the tension in his brow.

Arthur turned around to observe glowering boy, his arms crossed, jaw tight, and gaze directed to the window.

"Look," he began. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Arthur Kirkland and I'm the firefighter who saved your life."

Alfred turned and fixed his wandering gaze on him. Then he glared, "Why didn't you save my mom? Or my dad?"

Arthur swallowed and felt the guilt he'd been pushing away envelop him. He looked down, "I tried to. They—they were already gone when my team and I arrived. I'm so sorry."

The boy sniffled and he brushed away the tears. "But then you should have left me there. Where will I go now?" He asked helplessly. His eyes flicked up to the fireman's own for a moment and caught the array of emotions play across the man's features.

A feeling of guilt and responsibility filled Arthur at the question the boy posed. This was it. He had to do something for this boy. This lost boy who had no one and needed someone. He would not fail again.

Arthur cleared his throat, "Well, uh, I was thinking, you might stay with me. If you wish."

Alfred obviously wasn't expecting that and his jaw slackened for a second before he remembered himself. "You—you would let me?"

"That's what I said, didn't I? Do you not listen?"

Alfred scowled. "Jeez, I was just asking!"

"Well don't ask stupid questions!"

"Well then go away and stop lying to me!"

A look of outrage crossed the green-eyed man's face, "I am not lying! I meant it!"

Alfred crossed his arms and he thought it over for a moment and sighed, "Fine."

Arthur was about to yell again until he realised what the boy had actually said, "What?"

"I said fine! When are we going? I hate hospitals."

Arthur blinked and shook his head. What had he gotten himself into?

…

a/n: This chapter is giving a brief glimpse of the setting but the next chapter will take place further in the future. Please review, my lovelies!

P.S. I don't really know New York City very well, besides a brief trip from when I was in high school, so I assume that there might be a school called Lincoln but I have no idea if it's near West 37th or anything like that. Just take it as fictional!


	2. Chapter 2

Rise from the Ashes

By keisan

Disclaimer and warnings from Chapter 1 apply.

a/n: This story went in a different direction than I intended… Please enjoy!

…

Arthur pulled his keys out and opened the front door to his two-bedroom apartment. He used the second bedroom as an office, but since he was more or less in charge of this boy, Alfred, now, he figured he'd better get started on making his place a little homier. Alfred carefully avoided looking at his new guardian and crossed his arms as the other man set his things down and padded into the kitchen.

"Do you like tea?"

Alfred shrugged.

Arthur poked his head out of the kitchen and saw that the boy was standing awkwardly at the door still. He frowned. "Well, aren't you going to come in and sit down? It's only polite."

Alfred shrugged again.

Arthur reigned in his irritation and impatience. The boy had just lost his family, how did he expect him to behave? Perhaps, Arthur thought, just giving him a sense of routine would help him cope.

"I like to come in from work and make tea. I don't work every day but when I do, I work very long hours. I will have someone pick you up from school on those days," Arthur explained when he sat down on his couch. He continued, "I would prefer it if you joined me and if you don't like tea, I will give you something else. What do you like to drink after school?"

"Mom makes me hot chocolate with marshmallows and muffins. I mean… Mom made me h-hot chocolate…" Alfred looked away and rubbed his eyes. His dad always told him that big, strong boys don't cry, but Mom always told him later that it was okay to be sad when something hurt him or something bad happened. The blond American wasn't sure how to behave in front of this Arthur-guy though.

Alfred glanced up and observed the Brit. He seemed a little uncomfortable and uncertain.

"I can make hot chocolate for you," Arthur said.

"And muffins?"

"Well, ah, I make much nicer scones but I can certainly experiment with the muffins," Arthur replied with a sparkle in his eye. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe he wouldn't mess it up this time.

Needless to say, Arthur observed with a huff, the muffins were somewhat blackened when they came out of the oven. Luckily, Alfred was out of sight, sitting on the balcony taking in the sight of the city from so high up. Alfred had grown up in a bungalow-style house with a sizeable backyard (at least in his ten-year-old mind), so being in a high rise apartment was intriguing to him.

"Alfred! Come eat!"

The boy took his eyes off the sights of the city to try the worst tasting muffins he'd ever eaten. Arthur looked so pleased with himself, and while Alfred never cared if he hurt anyone's feelings (he was an only child and didn't really have the ability to read the atmosphere), he forced himself to try the burnt muffins. He made a face and shook his head.

"Well?"

"Mom makes them better. You need practice."

Arthur scowled, "Well I've never! They are perfectly edible, I'll have you know!"

Alfred shrugged.

"Shall we order take-away? How do you feel about Chinese food?"

The boy's stomach growled as if it had heard. He grinned and nodded.

…

_That night Alfred tossed and turned in his sleep. In his dreams, his mother's pale-blue eyes were blank and she was calling out, "Why did you leave, my baby?" _

_Alfred saw his father next to her, his face in a scowl, "Big boys don't cry. Stop crying!" _

"_No please! Dad! Mom!" _

Alfred woke again in tears but this time he stifled his cries. The blond boy gasped quietly, luckily Arthur hadn't heard because he couldn't hear the man up and moving about. He took a deep breath and curled into the new pillow Arthur had bought for him.

…

"Leave him alone!" Alfred screamed as he pushed the other boy away from Kiku Honda, his only friend at his new school.

Yao tugged on the bully's sleeve, "Ivan, please, let's go…"

Ivan grinned down at the Chinese boy, and shot Alfred a creepy smile. "Of course, Yao-Yao."

"That guy is so creepy…" Alfred murmured to himself, "Why Yao even hangs around him is beyond me…"

"It's because he and Ivan have a deal," Kiku replied quietly.

Alfred turned his head and glanced down at the small Japanese boy. "What deal?"

"Ivan told Yao that he'd leave Mei Lin alone if Yao was his friend."

"But that's black mail!" the blond American exclaimed outraged.

Kiku nodded.

"Commie bastard…"

Kiku frowned, "But Russia's not even communist anymore…" He trailed off at the look the tall American boy gave him.

"Thanks for helping me…"

"It's cool man, no problem," Alfred smiled. "Wanna play on my XBOX after school?"

Kiku smiled placidly, his dark eyes brightening considerably, "I would like that very much, Alfred."

…

A/n: Next chapter is about Mattie! Please read and review, lovelies!


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